The Whispers of Shadows - A&A One Shots

one stormy night

Sleeping over at the estate was meant to be fun. Azriel was on a mission in another Court that he could not disclose, even to her, so she decided to return to her old bedroom in the estate. Aurora wasn't fond of being alone, and with Orion out of the house, she decided the next best option was joining her friends. She and Feyre had drank wine and irritated Rhysand to the point of him going to bed hours before them. Now, she slept fitfully in her old bed.

She had thought that sleeping in the same house as the others was enough to stop the nightmares from crawling back into her mind. It wasn't. It couldn't be more than a couple hours since she had gone to bed, and Aurora had already awaken to a dark room with heaving breaths and a racing heart. It had been nearly a century since her traumas had been reality, yet they plagued her when she was her most vulnerable.

Aurora hated how they grew more vivid each time she closed her eyes. When her heart would slow and the sweat would clear, she'd lay her head back down and the voices would surround her immediately.

Where are you going?
Get back here, you bitch.
I fucking love to hear you sing, whore.
Can't scream when my cock is down your throat.

The chants of males in her past were wicked, twirling in her thoughts like she had returned to that wretched place. Aurora curled up, pulling the blanket over her head as though to shield her from within her own mind. It didn't work, the voices came back. Her heart lurched and Aurora shot up, a sob escaping. Her tired eyes were already wet with tears.

The origins of those voices were never clear to Aurora. It was rare that she saw their faces when they assaulted her. She'd gotten her revenge on a majority of them; burned vengeance over their screaming bodies long ago. It wasn't enough, their spirits haunted her in even the lightest of nights. Her mind flickered with the faces of those who visited her most often, and her fingers sparked with the urge to boil their blood once more.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Aurora tucked her knees up and ran her hands through her hair. Even now, warmed by the summer night and in the room she had healed in long ago, the bed felt like stone and a phantom wind chilled her to the bone. Awake, the faces still flickered and the voices rung.

"Shit," Aurora cursed, dropping her hands down onto the tousled sheets. Never enough, never healed. As much as she adored her mate, Aurora despised that she was entirely lost to her own mind when he wasn't beside her. A stray tear hit the fabric of her nightgown, cooling the burning skin beneath.

She ached for the comforting touch of her lover; Azriel's arms wrapped around her. She'd do anything in this moment to hear his voice lulling her to sleep. Her chest felt tight, the familiar strain of panic squeezing her lungs. The voices never ceased, the faces clouding her mind in constant shifts.

Through blurred vision, Aurora took in her surroundings. It was the same room, her room, yet void of any personal belongings. It was as average as any guest room. Perhaps that was her issue, she needed more familiarity to rid herself of the attack within her body.

Her hands shook tremendously as she tore the blankets from the bottom of her legs and stumbled from the bed. Her back arched as chills ran up her spine; it was that sensation that a predator was at her back. She felt their presence even long after their deaths. Frantically rubbing at her wet cheeks and brushing her hair from the sticky skin, Aurora took a moment to look out the window. Shrubs lined the windowsill, the moon tall and stark against the darkness in the sky. The stars and moon lit the clouds that rumbled above the city with warm rain.

It was a soothing night, but not enough as another face flickered. Aurora cried out in frustration. She was furious that these damned thoughts still got to her long after she'd found true happiness and safety. Even though she'd slaughtered soldiers that had touched her, the past never stopped haunting her. Her body jolted as the sensation of prowling danger grew higher.